#bellatait

[eyesinside]

𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎.

[eyesinside]

[eyesinside]

[eyesinside]

Messy tabletops, moxie cans, a pile of spades, familiar and new smiles, laughter and smoke erupted from them. My happiest childhood memories were surrounded by elders escaping the reality of being elderly. Curled wrinkled fingers sprawled out cards and fidgeted furociously to organize the suits for each play. That old wooden table and circle of love cultivated my personal hearth fire. Through the tongues that shared joy and memories of what seemed like fantasy but was actually the past. The most alluring nature of spending this childhood time with old bodies but young souls is the fight to get back to the simplicity. I was captivated - listening, learning, wide eyed and always staying reminded of the joy that a simple deck of cards and love to be shared can bring. Over the years our bodies can wither like leaves and suffering is always a part of life however there is always time to be shared. Those smiles sit with me every day. Spades will always be my favorite card game and I would like to say I can hold my own. But it never mattered who won or lost. After the last shuffle the yellow piece of paper or receipt was crumpled up and thrown away. We often forgot anyway. It didn’t matter.

[eyesinside]

@bella.tait

[eyesinside]

The older that I get, the further away the objects in my future appear. Yet the closer my past feels and so does my fear.

I remember the yellow drapes that soaked in floating pillows of nag champa smoke,

And more importantly the words that we spoke - still saturated with with the sweetness of hope.

Resembling a smell of wild blueberry muffins fresh - like grandma always made them - out of the oven.

New enough that we continued to believe we will some day run in our bare feet. Giggling with mud painted knees.

No one ever fighting about who is more equip to be in the lead.

Not that any one of us would grab a rope,

But I think deep down all we wanted was to be rid of the teenage melodrama possessing our bodies

into doing nothing but mope.

I remember the promises I made to stay far away from becoming jaded.

Oh how that sentiment has faded.

“I’ll never be you ya know..” I would always gloat.

Apparently I didn’t see that I was already nose diving forward into the waves that would rock that boat.

That hope still lives, you see it refuses to wilt.

Some light does still leak in time to time.

I mean, look at all that we have built.

Still it is there sitting at the base of my neck, caught in my throat like a pill made up of all of the years of passive aggression and irrational guilt.

Always reaching for the waters of compassion that I convinced myself would never allow for my thirst.

Why would she ever tell me with stars in her eyes that if I give of myself that I would ever come first.

I.M.

[eyesinside]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒊𝒆. 🖤
https://www.instagram.com/p/B2g1OqbFFQp/?igshid=1jfnu0es5erv6

[eyesinside]

Flat color version, more to come.

𝐁 𝐄 𝐋 𝐋 𝐀 • 𝐓 𝐀 𝐈 𝐓